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CAT#: ULY026
ARTIST: David Michael Moore
TITLE: Bird Head Burlando
DATE: 02/08/2024
FORMAT: Digital


This one is for the obsessed child on her belly, mindlessly flicking the spring doorstop over and over. Yes mindless, but also mesmerized by the differences in the spring doorstop’s alien ffffffffdddddrrrrrrrrdrrrrrr. Any subtle difference in the pressure she applies to the flicking of said spring doorstop is followed immediately by a noticeable difference in the attack and sustain of the doorstop’s hypnotic ffffffffdddddrrrrrrrrdrrrrrr. That is, until some annoyed adult comes to stomp the holy magic out of her.
1994’s Bird Head Burlando is the second offering in Ulyssa’s David Michael Moore digital reissue series. It is for those of us who hear a multiverse of tones in a cookware set; who like our cymbals cracked in half; who own more than one croaking frog guiro wood block.  To be honest, we had another, more songwriterly album on deck. But about a month ago, something about Bird Head Burlando began to speak to us. It’s a relentless album that showcases David’s slew of homemade percussive instruments. The purring ASMR of his wooden drum boxes. Wild journeys up and down David’s schizoid zithers. Buzz boxes of all shapes, sizes and cosmologies. Tin, titanium, aluminum and steel each with their own tone, touch and lyricism. Dog bones and ghost spokes. His army of bird recordings. You might recognize that Casio synth broiling in its own battery acid from his Adagio Fishing album. Bird Head Burlando takes that childhood realization that there is power in making a clatter and elevates it to the avant-garde. The power of crunching a plastic water bottle. Blowing into a Mexican Coke bottle. But shaped into an Om. Made into a happening. A physics lesson. It’s trance music. An expedition to the hinterland of percussive composition. Often, the ear will tune into the particular sizzle or rattle of a buzz box spoon. And its sound becomes a sort of onomatopoeia mantra looping through your mind. The title track (and therefore its return on the final song) is like Aaron Copland’s Hoe-down interpreted by Congo’s legendary Konono No. 1. It’s not all just freeform banging here. There are thrilling movements — intentional shifts and abrupt, ingenious key changes on par with Moondog. A whirling dervish straight outta Rosedale. Or fuck it, maybe this is just what Fat Albert’s junkyard band would have actually sounded like playing on bed springs, lead pipes and hubcaps. That’d be just fine with David too. 

Bird Head Burlando Cover.jpg
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